


A Slapshot To The Heart

by ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Eventual Happy Ending, Heartbreak, M/M, Mutual Pining, Semi-Public Sex, but only for a lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:39:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername/pseuds/ihavenotwittypunsforthisusername
Summary: Lying there with Chris curled around him, Chris's hand covering the '20' on the sweatshirt that Cam was wearing, the other was under the fabric, resting in the center of his chest. Cam was thinking about it now, putting together the puzzle pieces that he'd been trying to figure out for so long.Chris was terrified of the unsaid feelings between them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this fic since 2014 and it means so much to me. It was my first fic that I ever wrote (I posted more before posting this one). But anyways all disclaimers apply its all fiction blah blah, you know what you're getting into anyways. #kreiderkisses

Chris kept his eyes trained on his laces, fingers turning white at the tips. His face was pale and closed off, the way it always was when Jerrards was spouting his homophobic bullshit, "Would you just shut the fuck up?!" Cam said loudly so the whole room heard him.  
Chris's hands stilled on his laces as he looked up Jerrards just stared at Cam and then slammed out of the locker room, and the door banging shut after him. Cam looked at Chris who had grabbed the rest of his gear and was heading towards the door. The rest of the team filed out behind him.

Chris was a steely silent presence in the car back to their apartment. At the last light before it, he turned to Cam, "Why did you do that?

  
"Do what?" Cam asked, keeping his eyes on the red light.

  
"Stand up to Jerrards."

  
Cam glanced at Chris quickly, who was still pale, "He needed to shut his mouth."

Chris met his eyes, and the light turned green.

  
When they got home Chris went into his room without stopping in the kitchen for lunch like usual. Cam waited for a bit busying himself with meaningless chores around the house.

Trying not to listen to Chris's muffled voice floating through the apartment. After procrastinating a bit and making lunch, he knocked on the door and opened it, "...It just fucking gets to me-I gotta go," Chris hung up. Cam sat down next to him; Chris flinched minutely away but settled when Cam handed him his sandwich.

"Who was that?"

"Cally," Chris replied around a BLT with turkey bacon.

"What did he want?"

"Uhm I called him, needed to talk about something with him."

"Still a captain all the way in Tampa eh?"

Chris looked uncomfortable, "I guess."

Cam grabbed his empty plate; "I'm going out with the team tonight are you coming?" He changed subjects.

"I'm not feeling so good," Chris mumbled.

"Kay, I'll tell you all about it when I come back!" Cam winked and shut his door. He could hear Chris's quiet laughter through the door.  
  
Cam came back early from the bar to find the apartment empty and dark. He flicked on the TV, trying not to worry about Chris. Halfway through his second episode of Chopped, Chris stumbled through the door. Cam bolted up, "Chris?" He looked up startled from where he was leaning on the wall trying to get his shoes off.

"Cam, you aren't supposedtobehere," Chris slurred.

"This is my home?" Cam mumbled bending down and pulling off Chris's shoes while Chris put his hand on Cam's shoulder.

"NO! Like in the house, you're supposed to be out," Chris waved his hand wildly. Almost losing his balance. Cam didn't reply just hauled Chris up and dragged him to the couch. He dropped Chris and went to go find him water so Chris wouldn't complain all tomorrow about his hangover. He walked back into the den and sat down handing Chris the glass. He looked to the right, and saw the deep purple hickey on Chris's neck, obvious in the light of the den.

"Wanna tell me where you were?" Cam asked quietly, taking in the hickey and the finger marks around his neck. In reply Chris slumped onto Cam's shoulder and shook his head violently. Cam didn't say anything else but pushed more water into Chris, who in protest laid in Cam's lap and whined that he was laying down, therefore, he shouldn't drink.

Normally Cam would push him off, so he wouldn't be tempted to card his hands through Chris's dark hair. But tonight he just let him be, both of them watching Chopped in silence. Chris's head on Cam's lap lying on his back with his head turned to see the TV, his shoulder resting up against Cam's thigh. Slowly Cam lowered his arms down, one on Chris's chest and slowly lowered his left hand onto Chris's hair. He stopped breathing at the contact and then sighed. When that episode finished another began, the clock ticking to 1 am.

Cam couldn't help himself; he drew his fingers through Chris' hair. Slowly so Chris didn't flinch away at the contact. When nothing happened he did it again. He started at his hairline and pulled back his thumb brushing the edge of Chris's ear. Cam felt him shiver when he touched his ear but didn't say anything, so he kept doing it. Chris started leaning into the touch, but both kept their eyes trained on the blue glow of the TV.

Suddenly Chris shifted to face Cam, he rested his hand on Cam's abs, "Thank you for today," Cam was frozen, his hand now resting on Chris's forehead from the movement, "for dealing with Jerrards. It-it meant a lot," Chris's hand inched upwards, now on his sternum. "So thank you," He whispered the last part, as he sat up Cam's right hand falling onto Chris's hip and the other into his own lap. Chris leaned in slowly, almost waiting for Cam to push him away.

When he didn't Chris whispered, "Cam." He was inches away from him, eyes flicking down to his lips and back quickly, "Fuck," He breathed out and put his head on Cam's right shoulder, his breath hot where his neck touched the collar of his shirt. Chris started mouthing at the sensitive skin there, flicking the tendon with his tongue. Cam's breath hitched.

This is what he wanted, had always wanted, but never let himself think about. Now Chris was sitting half in his lap, kissing and biting at his neck in thanks for stopping Jerrards. He also knew that he couldn't do this to Chris, who was drunk and freshly fucked and was wearing that sad scared look he gets in his eyes. He let himself have this one moment. Knowing full well the second Chris realized what he was doing he would run as far as possible. Chris started humping him, slowly like him didn't want Cam to feel him even though he was doing it against Cam's thighs. Cam needed to stop this, "Chris. Chris!" he pushed at his chest, Chris's mouth making a soft popping noise when he moved off Cam. He looked at Cam, "I can't do this," he motioned between them.

"Why?" Cam stared at his wet bruised lips, trying to ignore the thoughts in his head that said, just kiss him.

"You just hooked up with someone, you're fucking wasted. You're not thinking straight!" Cam lurched up. Chris fell back almost falling off the couch. His eyes dark, lips still shining from the hickey he just gave Cam.

"Cam please," Chris pleaded. He sat up reaching for Cam.

"Don't do this Chris." Grabbing his hands and putting them on Chris's lap. Cam turned and started to walk to his room. Chris got up after him following him into his room, "Chris?" Cam said and whirled around, straight into Chris, who ran his hands over Cam's shoulders and chest. Chris reached for Cam's face, cupping his cheeks. His hands were shaking. Cam could smell the alcohol on his breath, just another reminder that he was taking advantage of his best friend.

Chris kept looking at Cam's eyes, "Cam," Chris whispered, inches away just like on the couch. Chris pressed his lips to Cam's. He closed his eyes at the feeling he'd imagined many times. But he knew Chris didn't know what he was doing.  
Cam pulled back after a moment. Chris stumbled onto him, trying to follow his lips, "let's get you to bed," Cam held Chris up and deposited him on Chris's bed. Chris passed out almost immediately. He looked at him sleeping, face still shuttered, "Why did you do this?" He whispered to Chris and then he closed the door. The kiss was everything he wanted but everything he could never have at the same time. When he fell asleep the sunrise was just hitting his window.  
  
Cam walked out into the kitchen the next morning Chris had made him a plate that was covered in foil and a Dunkin iced coffee sitting by it. Chris was busy texting someone on his phone, mutually ignoring each other as he shoved down the eggs. Cam needed to know what Chris remembered. If he remembered. "Last night was crazy eh?" Cam said, breaking the silence of the car.  
Chris shot him an assessing look, "I wouldn't know. I don't remember anything." Cam tried to hide his sigh of relief.

~~~

The thing was that Chris did remember last night. In perfect clarity, each fucking moment of it. And the only thing he wanted to do was forget it. He went out alone and got fucked and came back and tried to hook up with his best friend. Not to mention how drunk he was. He could barely look at Cam in the morning, he was so ashamed, so embarrassed.

He didn't want anyone to know, and now Cam knew and McD was about to know because he needed to talk to someone that wasn't Cally. And the only reason Cally knew about Chris was because one day he had walked in on him and G. Making out on the couch, with more love than he's ever seen before. He just stared at them; whatever look Chris had on his face led Cally to figure it out.

He cornered McD alone after practice after telling Cam to go home without him, "What do you do if you tried to hook up with a team—really good friend, while drunk and then say you don't remember it, but you do? And now you can't look him in the eye?"

McD schooled his face, "Can I ask if I know this person?" Chris couldn't speak but he nodded he hated this, but McD was his captain. He had a right to know about this even if Chris couldn't say it out loud. "Did you initiate it?"

"The actual kissing part? Yeah." Chris couldn't look at him either.

"You know I don't care if it was a guy right? You're still my friend," McD was staring directly into his eyes, daring him to not make eye contact. He looked at him quickly, nodding and then went back to staring at the bench next to him, "You can ignore it. You said that you don't remember it; you can leave it at that. Or you can just talk to him." Chris breathed in sharply at the second option.

"Look Kreids—Chris. Can I ask you something?"

"Yea," Chris almost whispered. Suddenly he couldn't speak.

"Did you do it because he was just there? Or because it was him?"

"Both?" Chris was full on looking at his feet now.

"Did he reciprocate?" Chris nodded.

‘Then just talk to him. He was sober." McD shrugged.

"But you should've seen his face when I said ‘I didn't remember', it was pure relief!"

Chris cried out.

McD sighed quietly, "Chris, don't take this the wrong way but I don't know what to do. I love you, buddy, so that's why I'm sending you to G or Cally. They know more about all of this than I do," McD waved a hand around the locker room. He moved into Chris, his arms open. Chris stepped into them wrapping his arms around McD's huge shoulders, breathing shakily, "I love you bud. No matter what," He gripped the back of Chris's neck for second and then pulled away, "Go call Cally."

"How do you know about them?" Chris asked after wiping his eyes trying to be nonchalant, he was a goddamn hockey player, he wasn't supposed to cry, he wasn't supposed to be gay.

"G came to me one day wasted, crying. Right after Cally left, he told me parts of it." Chris nodded because he knew bits and pieces but neither of them had ever told him why G had looked dead for months after Cally left or even why Cally left him like that. McD walked out with him, making sure he got a cab back before heading home.  
  
Cam had made his favorite stir-fry for lunch, he looked almost apologetic when he handed him the plate. After a semi-awkward lunch, Cam retreated to take his pre-game nap since he was starting the game.

Cally knew about Chris because Chris knew about him and G. Chris had walked in on them one day, Cally had seen something on Chris's face which led him to figuring out Chris. That led to months of sheer panic for Chris, but Cally never acted on his knowledge. Never told a soul.

Chris called Cally, "Hey Kreids,"

"Hey, how's Tampa?"

"Hot. How's New York?" Cally continued Chris's bullshit small talk.

"Good!" Chris lied.

"What's up bud? You called me," Chris was silent for a moment.

"I went out and picked up while wasted and then went home and tried to hook up

with Cam. In the morning I told him that I didn't remember anything when he asked me, but I remember everything and what should I do?" He let it all out in one big breath.

Cally let out a surprised laugh, "Took you long enough,"

"What."

"I see it when you look at him." Cally's voice was gentle.

"You mean other people can see it?" Ignoring Cally's comment about Cam's face. Chris felt the panic well up in his chest.

"Not that I know of. I never mentioned it to G. It's okay. So about Cam, who started what? Who said what?"  
Chris went out onto the cramped balcony in his room and told Cally everything that happened on the couch.

"And?" Cally asked when Chris paused.

"He was in his room, and I followed him in and fucking started doing it again. I don't know how it happened but I kissed him and he kissed me back and then just put me to bed."

"So let me get this straight." Cally paused, "You gave him a hickey. He ran. He followed him, kissed him. He kissed back and then dragged you to your bedroom?"

"Pretty much yeah,"

"Shit," Cally said.

"Yeah,"

"Did he mention it in the morning?"

"Mmhmm. He said ‘Last night was crazy eh?' and I said I didn't remember anything ‘cause he was testing me. But he kept touching the hickey."

Cally hummed, "Do you still want him?"

"I-I yeah. I do." He rubbed his face. He didn't want to want him.

"Then do something." Cally took a deep breath, "Can I tell you a story?"

"Yeah,"

"I was in love with a guy, we hooked up for years. We started like you guys; he was overwhelmed and stressed about his growing family. He initiated it, started it all. But we never talked about it, never talked about what we were. Never. Then one day, he came to me and said, ‘my wife is pregnant again. And I can't do this anymore, I'm sorry.' And then he walked out of my life. He was such a coward and ran away with his tail between his legs. Back to his perfect straight life, but he kept coming back to me, wasted. Wanting to fuck, or cuddle. And I just couldn't take it anymore. So I left."

"Ryan," Chris said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Cally cleared his throat, "Yeah, but that's in the past now. Moral of that sob story is that don't let someone pass you by. Talk about it. Get it into the open. Don't play games with your heart. Anyways I gotta go I have a meeting, but just remember to protect yourself too."

"Are you happy?" Chris asked suddenly.

"I'm happier here," Cally replied and hung up.

Weeks past and Chris kept thinking about what Cally said, but neither he nor Cam ever mentioned that night. Chris continued picking up girls when the team was there and going out and fucking guys alone. Cam kept sending him looks, whenever he came home after it Cam just got up and left when he went to watch TV or when Chris picked up the girls Cam flicked his eyes between them until Chris brought her back to his room. It wasn't like Cam was mad at him, but more like he was assessing Chris's actions. Trying to find an answer for something Chris would never give him.

After a win against the Panthers at home, the team went out for drinks. Cam had been eyeing Chris all night, "Did you take my advice?" McD slipped into the booth across from Chris promptly cutting off his view of Cam. Chris shook his head. "Did you talk to Cally?" Chris nodded, "And?"

"He said the same thing you said." Chris twisted his beer bottle. The silence hung between them.

"He's going hard at it tonight," McD murmured.

"Who?" Chris said too quickly. McD just sadly smiled at him.

"Go get him home safe Kreids." Chris nodded and McD slipped back out.

Chris made his way to Cam, "Hey buddy, let's get you out of here,"

Cam stood on his own, walking almost normally, "Buddies? Is that really what we

are?" He snorted, a mean edge to the dig.

"Cam," Chris said.

Cam sighed, "Chris."

It seemed that Cam had forgotten about their little spout while waiting for the cab in the early winter wind. Cam slid in first and gave the cabbie their address, as the ride went on Cam kept inching closer to Chris. He put his hand on the inside of Chris's knee. Chris left his hand there, only because Cam had always been a touchy drunk and the best way to deal with him was to let him be.

But when his thumb started moving in slow circles around the ball of his knee, his mind went back to Cam finger-brushing his hair. His dick was very interested in Cam's hand inching up his thigh and Cam noticed it, "Cam," Chris moaned very quietly.

"Just buddies right?" Cam whispered directly into his ear. Chris shivered, "You don't remember anything about that night huh?" With that, Cam pulled away completely throwing himself onto the other side of the cab. Chris had calmed down by the time the cab had made it to their apartment and Cam had paid the cabbie, Chris giving him an extra 20 for discretion.

Chris slammed the door after Cam, "What the hell was that?!"

"I fucking figured out that you remembered! And you kept lying to me!"

"SO WHAT? YOU DECIDE ‘OH THE PERFECT REVENGE IS LETS TURN ON CHRIS IN THE BACK OF A FUCKING CAB?!'" Chris yelled. Cam just stared at him; he looked almost sober, "Why the fuck are you staring at me like that?" Chris's voice dropped. Cam took a shaky breath and pulled Chris in.

"Can I?" Cam whispered. Chris nodded once. Cam kissed him gently, just like how Chris had to him weeks ago. Cam flicked his tongue out, into Chris's mouth, who sucked gently on it. Pulling a moan out of Cam. Chris trailed his hands down Cam's chest wrapping around to his ass, hitching him closer so their crotches lined up. Cam walked them back until Chris was pushed up against the front door. Cam unzipped both of their pants, sucking a hickey into his neck. Chris's head hit the door with a thud, his eyes closed cast upward.

"Fuck. Fuck." Chris moaned once Cam had gotten both of their dicks in his hand. Chris held on to Cam's shoulders looking down at their dicks rubbing together. Cam kissed him again, sloppy and open-mouthed, Chris's knees almost out when Cam slid his thumb across the tip of his dick, "I'm close," He whispered and shuddered.  
"C'mon," Cam whispered in his ear, "Come for me Chris," Chris arched into Cam, yelling and coming. Cam followed him over the edge, held onto Chris, while he recovered, sliding them both to the ground their backs on the door. It felt like hours passed until Chris spoke.

~~~~

"Cam," Chris whispered into the dark apartment. His fingers trailing up and down his wrist

"Yeah?" He whispered back.

"I do remember that night," Cam stopped breathing, "And because you're my best friend I know that you felt like you were taking advantage of me. That's why you stopped kissing me right?" Chris gently wrapped his long fingers around Cam's wrist.

"Yeah," He replied. Chris didn't reply for a few minutes.

"I can't do this again," Chris stood up, giving his hand to Cam, "I'm gonna head to bed." He said, clipped. Cam followed him down the hall and turned off into his own bedroom. Over coffee the next morning, Chris couldn't meet his eyes.  
  
Chris avoided him after that, going back into his same routine. Girls with the team, guys when he's not. McD grabbed Cam's elbow after a late practice, "Cam."

"What's up McD?" He asked even though he had a pretty good idea what this was about.

"How have you been?"

Cam choked on a rueful laugh, "I've been fine. Why?"

"Are you and Kreids okay?" Cam implored.

Cam was silent for a minute, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we're good," McD just hummed in reply.

"Okay, bud. You'll tell me if anything happens right?"

"Definitely." Cam half-lied.

"Just don't let it affect the team. That's all I give a shit about okay?"

"Sounds good Cap," Chris saw McD's unbelieving look, "Really."

"Coming out after the game right?" McD clapped him on the shoulder when he nodded back. Cam looked across the room and saw Chris glaring at them.  
The game was a total shit show, down by three by the end of the first. Down by 5-1 by the beginning of the third Cam took Henrik's place. Chris was bad off the ice with Cam in net, but he was total shit playing in front of Cam. Missing plays, crashing the net at the wrong time, shoving and getting shoved. One of the punches hit his nose, making him bleed.

Mercifully the game ended with a final score of 1-6. The loss put everyone in a bad mood, all of them going out to drown their sorrows instead of a party like they had planned. Cam tagged along behind McD, going to the A's table and nursing a couple of beers. Looking on at Chris who was throwing back shot after shot. After about five, he staggered over to Cam's table. Pulling him by the sleeve, "I wanna go home,"

"Tough shit," Chris pouted at Cam, who was ignoring McD staring at them. Chris's nose still had cotton shoved up it.

He tugged again harder this time, the fabric visibly stretching out in his fist. His face twisted in that same sad pained face, "Please." He whispered.

Cam glanced at McD who turned away quickly taking a sip of his drink, "Yeah okay,"

 

Chris slung his arm over Cam's shoulders and let himself be dragged out of the bar.  
"I really wanna kiss you," Chris slurred in the back of the cab.

"No you don't," Cam removed Chris's hand on his arm.

"I really do," He brushed his fingers down Cam's arm. Cam took a deep breath.

"Chris. Stop," He gently pushed him to the far window. Chris huffed but looked out at the lights passing by.  
  
Chris grabbed him the second they got in the door, "Let me kiss you," Chris whispered, gripping Cam by the shoulders.

Cam studied Chris, "Why? You said you couldn't do this anymore."

"Because I want to. Because I can," Chris whispered his fingers a whisper of a touch on Cam's face. Cam nodded; he pulled Chris in by the jaw.

"Wait," Chris pulled back, "Couch."

Chris straddled Cam on the couch, kissing him deeply. Their dicks rubbing together through their boxers, their pants strewn somewhere between the door and den, "If I don't get my pants off right now I'm gonna come in them," Cam panted out. Chris just smirked back. And bent down to suck him through the fabric, "Ahhh!" He felt Chris shaking above him, his own orgasm hitting him at the same time.

They fell back on the skinny couch, Chris on top of him to stay on it. His head resting on Cam's chest, his finger drawing lazy circles around Cam's pec, "Can we keep doing this?" Chris asked.

"This?"

"Us. Fucking. When we're not drunk or sad. No strings or anything," Chris went on.  
Cam thought for a moment, wondering if he can do this without strings, "Yea. Lets do it," Chris lifted his head and kissed him.

Chris untangled his limbs, "Coming?"

"I think that already happened." Cam deadpanned.  
Chris laughed head thrown back, walking away clearly wanting Cam to follow. Chris snatched both of their dirty boxers from his bedroom floor and threw them in the hamper. While getting a warm washcloth, slowly washing Cam's dick. Cupping his balls gently, he was oversensitive. Squirming around, but moaning at the sensation at the same time, Chris quickly wiped himself off too. Cam's eyes tracked the movement.

"If you keep looking at me like that, I will jump you," Cam's laughter bubbled out of him at Chris's comment. Chris pulled Cam in by his wrist, "Maybe I'll do it anyway," He smiled as he kissed him.

They fell onto Chris's bed, "we," kiss, "need," kiss, "to go," kiss, "to bed." Cam whispered.

"Party pooper," Chris pouted but his eyes were smiling.

~~~~~

Chris called Cally the next day, "So we got our heads out of our asses," He stated.

"Oh?" He could hear Cally's smile through the phone.

"Yeah,"

"So are you guys dating or what?" Chris was silent, "You fucking didn't do it did you." Chris still didn't say anything. Cally figured it out, "You fucking did it. I WARNED YOU NOT TO!" Cally yelled, the anger shaking his voice.

"It's my choice, Cally." Chris's voice was a scary calm.

"And it's a really fucking shitty one. I FUCKING CARE ABOUT YOU CHRIS DON'T DO THIS!'" His voice quivered.

"Fuck off Ryan. G is looking the same type of shitty as the day you fucking left. It was your choice to run away from your feelings. You could've stayed here, worked it out. But no you were the one that ran away with their tail between their legs. You said to me, ‘he's the coward.' No Ryan. You're the coward." Chris's calm voice broke on the last sentence. He hung up then, cutting off Cally's ‘Fuck you.'  
  
"You alright?" Cam asked Chris from his perch leaning on the doorway.

"Cally's not," Chris replied.

"I got that, but are you okay?" Cam walked into the den and bent down in front of Chris's bent form on the couch. He touched his chin, so Chris would meet his eyes.

"Yea. I'm fine."

That night, Chris decided to eat off of Cam's lap on the couch. Not his actual lap, but put the plate there, then lay on his stomach and eat it. Making sex noises at Cam until he pushed him off and jerked him off. Their food a mere few feet away.  
Chris reciprocated with a blowjob. His only experience doing it was in college when both parties had something to lose by snitching on the other so he felt pretty safe yet still on edge. Now, he let himself enjoy it. String Cam along until he was begging, pulling at Chris's dark hair. Telling him to, ‘hurry the fuck up before my dick falls off.' Chris just smiled and pulled off, lips wet and shiny.

Enjoyed watching Cam's eyes narrow and then grab him putting Chris on his stomach and thrusting between his cheeks. His come covering Chris's ass. Then Cam bent down and started licking up Chris's back leaving bite marks on his shoulders. While wiping up the come with a t-shirt, then biting his way down again stopping at his ass, licking and biting. Keeping eye contact with Chris until his eyes rolled back in pleasure from the purple hickey Cam had just sucked into Chris's right cheek.

They sat there after, both too fucked out to move. Instead, they stared at their food, which had been kicked off the coffee table at some point. Fried rice was in the carpet, sesame chicken sauce was on the blankets and pillows Cam had thrown off the couch to make room for Chris's whole body to be laid out. That was the first time Chris had felt the warmth curling in his stomach for Cam, and the beginning of him ignoring the feeling.

~~~~

Sex with Chris was probably the best sex Cam has ever had. He was successfully separating whatever feelings he had for Chris before all of this and the sex with Chris. But fuck. It was hard.

Chris had started to look at him with these eyes. Some unmentionable emotion shining through, right after they both come is when it usually surfaces. Laying breathless on the floor, their hands laced together on one of their chests, Chris just stared at him for a moment, Cam didn't want to think of what it could mean. He didn't let himself think of what it could mean. There were times after shitty games where Chris just pulled him down to their bed and breathed with him. Falling asleep and Cam didn't have the heart to move. Then the opposite of the spectrum, after the adrenaline filled wins. Chris rubbed Cam off in the car. One hand on the wheel the other trailing feather-light touches on Cam's pants until he was squirming and sweaty.

There was once where Chris was speeding late at night. Both of them rushing home to jump each other's bones and got pulled over. Per usual Chris had been doing his feather light dick touching. The team decided to go to a new bar in Brooklyn, which meant 45 minutes of pure torture for Cam. There was a wet spot dotting Cam's zipper his boner obvious. Cam's face was hot and sweaty, "Hide your fucking boner," Chris snapped at him playfully as the cop car shut off his lights. Cam reached around and grabbed both of their sweatshirts, throwing one on, and then putting the other one in his lap.

"What's the problem?" Chris asked the officer, shading his eyes from the flashlight.

"You were going 50 in a 40 zone," The officer replied, shining his light on Cam,

 

"What's happening here?" Addressing Cam.

"I'm sick and my friend is bringing me home." Cam was shaking, his face splotchy and sweaty. Cam moaned sounding like he was about to puke.

"Fever," Chris said after a moment. Reaching over Cam to grab the registration, which he handed to the officer with both their IDs.

"You're fucking good," Chris whispered.

"I will actually puke on you if you don't get me off the second he leaves." Cam huffed out. And went back to clutching his stomach as the officer approached.

"Sirs, the only issue on either of your records is Mr. Kreider's two parking tickets from Boston. So it's your lucky night. Get your friend home safe," He said to Chris.

"Yes Sir, thank you," The cop pulled away after them, Chris taking the next exit, finding a dark parking lot.

"Get you pants off right now," Chris ordered. Cam pushed his pants down to his knees; "I was about to ask him for his handcuffs,"

"Fuck Chris," Cam moaned out.

Chris whispered as he wrapped a hand around Cam's dick, "Just think of what we could do with those," His gaze rested on Cam's wrists, "I guess we're gonna have to find something else right?" With his left hand, he fingered the sweatshirt on his lap.

"Do you think he noticed that you're wearing my sweatshirt?" Chris whispered in his ear before sucking a hickey into the left side of Cam's neck. The hand on his dick just circled it, not even moving, and his free hand traced the 20 on Cam's chest, "You have no idea how hot that makes me,"

"Maybe I should wear it during pre-game. Get you all hot. Make you wait until you get home so I can fuck you, me wearing your jersey." Cam panted out, smirking at Chris's horny face, "Hah. Suck it," Meaning it in a joking way, but Chris lifted one eyebrow and bent over the console and took him in his mouth, "F-f-fuck," He could feel Chris laughing, the throat movement making him come.

When Cam was through the aftershocks, he looked at Chris. He was looking at him softly, filled with an emotion Cam didn't want to name. This time, Cam couldn't tear his eyes away from Chris's, who was jerking himself off. Chris kept eye contact until he came, throwing his head against the headrest, the moan echoing through the car. "If I could get hard right now I would bring you in the back and fuck you." Cam said quietly.

"Yeah?"

Cam cupped Chris's face, kissing him slowly, "Yeah." Chris started up the car and drove them home. Cam kept Chris's sweatshirt on, through the night, he told himself it's because it's warmer than his own and sometimes Chris was a fucking ice cube. He ignored the small voice telling him, its because Chris always looked at him with that soft unnameable emotion in his eyes when he wore it.

Cam had never told anyone that he was gay besides his parents. He was fine with it of course. Didn't really care if people knew, but he didn't flaunt it. He never told Chris, who knows what Chris thought he was. Bi? Gay? Straight-but-enjoys-fucking-Cam? Whatever Chris was, he hid from the team and hid it well. Cam didn't care if the team knew; he was actually pretty sure half of them had figured Cam out anyway.  
The only way Cam knew about Chris remembering was he stayed late the day he talked to MacTruck. Cam had heard everything, but he also heard the fear in Chris's voice. He was almost shaking with it Cam knew that feeling. Too well. The time when his high school hockey team had tried to label ‘the faggot' on the team. Cam had a panic attack when he got home and then he realized, fuck them. They have no control over Cam. They can take away his career, they can take away hockey, but they'll never take away that part of Cam.

Cam knew Chris was different from that, just from watching. Especially with Jerrards, he was the ‘Goalie Killer' on the ice. Could put up with anything that's said to him on the ice. But when he gets off it, and someone makes a slur. He shuts up. Mouth a hard line, eyes cold. The way he barely makes eye contact with Cam in the locker room makes it a statement to Cam that he won't say anything to anyone. ‘MacTruck and Cally already know. And that's too many people for me.' Chris had said once when they were having dinner.

Cam had nodded, gone on with his day. But lying there with Chris curled around him, his hand covering the '20' on the sweatshirt that's now Cam's, the other slipped under the fabric, resting in the center of his chest. His leg thrown over Cam's, chest flush with Cam's left side, his hand resting in Chris's hair; he was thinking about it now, putting together the puzzle that he'd been trying to figure out for so long.

Chris was terrified of the unsaid feelings between them. 

 

~~~~~~~

The constant pressure of settling down, having children, the yard, and the dog from his parents were getting to him. He couldn't tell him that he was that. He couldn't say it, because if he didn't say it. He _wasn't it_ , and no one could hurt him. His parents loved him of course, sending him to one of the best prep hockey schools in the northeast. They never said anything about hating gays or anything, but he always knew that they weren't exactly open to the idea.

Christmas break was coming up, they had four days to go back home, relax. Eat cookies and pretend that isn't against the rules. For Chris, it was the time he was going to come out to his parents. Though he didn't know how because he couldn't even say that word out loud, to Cam or himself. He couldn't call himself that because if he never labeled it, he never was that; and he never could be hurt because of it.

Cam was staying in New York, said it wasn't worth him flying all the way to Ontario. Chris didn't want to leave him, but Cam helped him pack his bags, kissed him by the door, and said, ‘I can't wait until Saturday.' Chris got on the train to Boston, from there he would take the T closer to home and his sister would pick him up. The whole journey is about six hours, it gave him enough time to figure out what to say to his parents, how to tell them about Cam. Because even though they were no string attached, Chris never knew what could happen. Cam looked at him like he was the sun. Chris wanted more, but how to ask, how to say it. That was the issue. Fuck, after two months of doing this with Cam, he had feelings that he's never had before. It was bubbling up, he could sense it, could feel it when he looked at Cam. But Chris knew that he would never have the courage to ask unless Cam did first.

His sister, Katie grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him in hard, making him stumble, "You asshole,"

"What?" Chris laughed once he was released from her clutches.

"Its been two years you fuckwad." She slapped his chest. He faked the pain. He loved his sister to death, but she was just a tad physical at points. She pulled him in for another hug, "God I've missed you," She sniffled.

"Are you crying Banana?" He asked, using her old pet name from when she was just a baby.

"No. I'm not. Don't call me Banana, Fuckwad." But she was laughing.

"Holy shit you can drive," He teased.

"Yes big brother, I'm nineteen." Chris faked passing out, "Get your ass in the car."

She said and started it up without him in it, he was too busy clutching his gut laughing. He treated her to Dunkin on their way home, "What would I ever do without you my rich big bro?" She said and sipped her frozen thing.

"Crash and burn along with having no Dunkin coffee." He smiled. But he couldn't help thinking of how he got Cam Dunkin as an apology for fucking up everything.

He wanted to tell her separately that his parents, "Hey you want to get lunch? My treat."

"Totally." She pulled into a diner ten minutes later, "This is in your diet plan thing right?"

"It Christmas Sis. Nothing matters." Chris laughed.

"Seriously though what is this about?" Katie asked after they'd ordered.

"Uhm," Chris suddenly forgot his speech he'd planned out.

She grabbed his hand, "Are you sick or something?"

Chris shook his head viscously, "No." Fuck this she's his sister. She loved him, "You know my teammate Cam?"

"Is he sick?!" Her voice rose a tiny bit.

"No. Kates no one's sick." She deflated, "Cam and I have- have been with each other for while," His voice dropped to below a whisper at the end. He couldn't look at her.

"Chris, look at me," He cast his eyes up, "I fucking love you so much. I don't give a shit." She was crying.

"Why-why are you crying?" His voice was gravelly.

"Because you thought I would react differently. And I fucking love you so much nothing can change that you dipshit." She left her side of the booth, coming over and hugging him tight, "I don't care who you love Chris. As long as you're happy." She wrinkled his shirt with her fists.

"Thank you," He whispered. She smiled at him, slipping into the other booth right as the server came back, setting their food in front them. They both smiled at him.

"Cam?" As in the goalie? The one with the hot scruff,"

"Oh my god Katie." He deadpanned, "And yes. Him."

"That's so sweet." She made a cooing noise.

"Fuck you so much," He whined, but he was smiling, "Can you not tell Mom and Dad, I'm going to tell them. But I love you the most so I wanted to tell you first."

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. Besides Skittish of course." Skittish was the cat that lived around their neighborhood, going into a different house each winter. He laughed, "Is it serious?"

"Not really, but it could get there."

"I hope it does. You always looked happy talking about him." Chris blushed.

  
His parents greeted him at the door, Katie snatching his one bag, and he still had his backpack. "Chris my dear!" His mom cried pulling him into a hug. His father hugged him also and then they came together in a big family bear hug.

"Can we please shut the door? All of Boston doesn't need to see us hug it out," Katie said. Their father went to shut the door.

"Go shower, take a nap. Dinner in about two hours," Katie ran up the stairs like she was eight all over again. Chris followed up more slowly back into his childhood room. The Gretzky and Orr posters, medals and trophies scattering on the walls and tabletops, the Navy blue curtains hanging almost sadly, forgotten. A layer of dust on everything but his freshly made bed. He wanted to shower, he didn't want to nap. He wanted to call Cam.

"Hey, Kates I'm going to shower and maybe nap can you get me before dinner?"

"'Course big bro!" She called from her room.

Chris took a long shower, cramming his big body into the small shower connected to his and Katie's rooms. Afterward, he went looking for Skittish; he hasn't seen that damn cat in years. He went into the barn at the end f the street where she lived with her litter that Katie had been sending him pictures of. "Skitts?" He made clicking noises with his tongue. Two adorable gray and black kittens ran out of the walls, "Hey cuties," He sat down his legs outstretched. He couldn't stop thinking about Cam, so he called him.

"Hey," His voice was soft. He told himself that he could enjoy hearing Cam's voice, even just six hours away, but that it didn't mean anything.

"Hey, snowing yet?" Chris asked. New York was in for a hell of a blizzard.

"It's a white out." Cam's voice filled him with warmth as the cold ground seeped to his legs.

"It's about to snow here too," He stood up, now that the whole clan had appeared. His job was to lead them back to the house. He dropped the treats trailing after him,

"There's this family of cats that live in my neighborhood. Look how cute they are," He sent Cam a few pictures.

"They're adorable!" Cam's voice rose, Chris could tell he was smiling. He was silent for a moment, "Is it bad that I miss you already?"

Chris was silent, "Cam." He'd told Cam he didn't want feelings. No strings right? Chris was breaking his own rule.

"Fuck," Cam whispered on the other end.

Chris sighed into the phone, "Cam," He must've heard the unspoken sentence in that.

"I know. I know. Stay safe okay?" Cam said escaping.

"You too," Cam hung up after that.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" He asked the kittens and Skitts who had been dutifully following him halfway home. They just looked up at him, "I know," What the fuck was wrong with him. He was talking to cats about his relationship.

Two days past quickly, Christmas was fun, Katie banging on his door at 10 am because thank you very much she is not actually a total child anymore. He bought everyone Rangers gear and whatever they asked for. Katie: a scarf, new hockey stick, and Chris is pretty sure she had more Rangers gear than he had. Mom: cooking shit because it's her passion. Finally for Dad: New spices because he is a better cook than his mom for normal food and not cakes.

December 26th. Chris was going to come our today. He sat down his family, Katie sitting next to him. "You can do this," She whispered to him as their parents sat down. He squeezed her hand in reply.

"Mom, Dad," He took a deep breath, "I'm-I'm dating a boy." He waited for the fallout. They were both silent.

"You're doing what?" His dad's voice was scary calm. Like right before he explodes.

"I'm dating a man." He said this time with more confidence.

"Did you know about this?" His dad sneered to Katie.

"Yes, and I still love him," Katie replied, Chris's fingers were turning white from her grip.

"Please go up stairs, Christopher." His mother addressed him. He nodded, trying to stop his shaky hands. Katie followed him up.

"It'll be fine, they just need to process it," Katie said as the sat on Chris's bed.

He snorted, "Did you see Dad's face?" Katie was silent.

About thirty minutes later his mother called him down, "This is what is going to happen. Go break up with the man." Her face was full of disgust, "and you're welcome back here…"

His dad took over, "And if you don't end that please pack up your things and wait until we call you to come back." His voice was stiff.

"You fucking assholes!" Katie cried at them. He felt nothing. He was cold all over. He was in shock.

"What do you choose Christopher?" His mother asked him.

"Let me think about it." He whispered. His voice didn't work.

His left the table in shock, he made it up to his bathroom. He looked himself in the eye. He was crying, silently. Tears were rushing down his face, "Pick him, Chris." Katie spoke gently from the doorway. He'd made his decision. He shook his head, "You fucking love him. I can see it. Pick him!" She almost yelled.

"I'm not abandoning my family!" Chris screamed shaking like a leaf. He felt sick.

"He's your family too!" She screamed back.

"No, he's not!" Chris yelled, "I'm just fucking him! I can't even say the word gay!"

"HE'S YOUR FUCKING FAMILY TOO!" Katie screamed her voice cracking.

"I'M NOT EVEN GAY!" Chris's voice broke too.

"ARE YOU JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE A COWARD OR DO YOU MEAN IT?" Katie yelled at him as he shouldered past her, to pack his bag. Katie didn't say anything else. She just watched him pack up his stuff. He laid his favorite medals in the bottom of the bag, next to his favorite pictures. Finally, he put the rest of his clothes in and zipped it up. He couldn't feel anything. He was numb.

Chris walked down the stairs, "I choose you, but I'm not staying here." He bent down and hugged Skitts gently and slammed the front door behind him. Katie ran after him, the snowstorm had hit.

"Let me drive you," Katie said. Chris blinked the snow out of his eyes.

"NO. Thanks." Chris snapped.

"Please," Katie pleaded.

He didn't want to fight anymore, "Okay,"

Katie was quiet on the drive, "You love him don't you," She asked once, quietly. Chris didn't answer, just stared out at the blizzard around them. Blinking tears out of his eyes. When they pulled up to the train station Katie locked the doors, "I love you okay?" She grabbed Chris's hand, "I love you so much,"

Chris nodded, his heart in his throat, "Thank you," He croaked out. Katie pulled him into a hug.

"Stay safe big bro, I love you!" And she was gone, back into the storm.  
Chris's train didn't leave until tomorrow, so he curled up on the chairs with 15 other people and tried to sleep, all he could think about was Cam crying in front of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cam had set out a romantic dinner. If you could call a store bought baked chicken because he burned his own and beer poured into glasses, thank you, Cam did have class. He was waiting for Chris. Who hadn't contacted him since the awkward phone call where Cam accidently put feelings into the equation.

The door opened, Cam shot up from his perch on the couch. "Hey Kreids," He said cheerfully. He took one look at him, saw the pale sickly face. The fear that he got with Jerrards, "Chris?" Cam asked again. Chris's eyes were wet, he saw the table, with the candles, the dim lighting. Cam heard a soft hitch in his throat.

"Cam," Chris whispered. Chris pulled him into his arms, his shoulders shaking a bit. He pulled back and kissed Cam sweetly, with something Cam can't name. Cam cupped his cheeks, feeling the wetness there, he wiped under Chris's eyes.

"What's wrong?" Cam asked worriedly.

"I can't do this anymore," Chris said, pulling out of Cam's arms.

"What? Why?" Cam's jaw dropped.

"I-I just can't," Chris said quietly, he didn't look all right.

"What the hell? I thought we were good!" Chris's demeanor changed suddenly.

"You fucking were! I'm not!" Chris yelled.

"What the fuck did I do?!" Cam yelled back. He didn't understand. Chris just snorted,

"What?!"

"I'm not fucking…that!" Chris yelled.

"What gay?" Cam laughed suddenly, it was a mean laugh that bubbled from some dark pit, "You can't even say the word." Chris was silent, there were tears streaming down his face, "Was I anything to you?" Chris was silent, "Do you even like me?" Chris looked like Cam just punched him. Cam realized, either answer Chris would say it would break his heart. But his heart was already broken, "Say something

DAMMIT!" Cam yelled.

"I'm sorry," Chris whispered his eyes down.

"Get out." Chris's eyes shot up, "Get. The. Fuck. Out." Chris looked at him once, looked at the table once.

"I never even liked you," Chris whispered, venom breaking his voice. He shut the door to Cam's sobs and the only the only person he's ever loved.

~~~~~~~~

Chris closed the door hating himself. He wanted to die, he wanted to go back in there and kiss him, tell him he loved him, tell him that this was all coming from his parents, his parents were his blood. But Cam was family too. The family he just ripped the heart out of and smashed it, which was what he needed to do, though. He needed to hurt Cam, to push him away as far as possible so that Cam didn't have to deal with Chris and his baggage. In return, Chris got self-hatred and his parents. The thought kept reverberating through his head, was it worth it? Was it worth it?

For some reason, he could say it now. He was gay. He loved Cam. Will always love him. But this is for the best, Cam could never be happy with what Chris can give him. Cam deserves better than a self-hating-closet-case-fucked-up hockey player.

"Ryan," He called MacTruck.

"Kreids? Are you okay?" Chris was about to cry again.

"No. Cam and I just broke up." Ryan was quiet.

"Where are you?"

"Sitting outside our apartment building," Chris mumbled.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes. Don't fucking move." He commanded and hung up. His SUV rolled up about ten minutes later; he opened the door, "C'mon get in,"  
Chris trudged to the car, "Thanks," He said quietly.

"Put the blanket on," Ryan said and shoved a fluffy throw at him. Chris wrapped it around his shoulders.

 

At their house, Kaylee pushed hot cocoa at him and let him mope by the fire. Ryan sat down next to him, "Will this affect the team?" Ryan asked gently.

"Probably." Chris mumbled, "I'm sorry,"

"It's okay buddy. Are YOU okay?"

Chris drying laughed, "Nope,"

"Is Cam okay?" Ryan asked next.

"I ripped out his heart and ran it over," Chris said staring into the flames, petting the dog that landed next to him.

"Can I hug you?" He asked. Chris's blanketed body fell into Ryan's waiting arms. He started crying again. After a while Chris fell asleep, exhausted by the last four days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan slowly let him down, covering him with another blanket. He went to go call Cam. He knew Chris would never tell him what happened; he was a stubborn bastard like that.

"Hey Talbo," Ryan said quietly.

"Hi," His voice was small.

"Could you fill me in on why I have a sleeping crying Kreider on my couch?"

Cam sighed, "Is this an order from a captain or a friend?"

"Both,"

Cam reluctantly told him everything.

"Chris told me it was going to affect the team, will it?"

"Most likely, but I can work through it."

"Can he?"

"Chris is as strong as hell,"

"I'm sorry Cam, you know that right? You two looked so happy,"

"I thought we were," Cam's voice was back to that small one.

"You were. I know you were." Ryan said into the phone. Meaning every word, "We have practice tomorrow morning. Don't go."

"What?"

"Captain's orders. Take a day, you need it."

"Thank you,"

"I mean it if you want to take another day."

 

"Does Chris have the same deal?"

"I'll talk to him when he wakes up,"

"Tell him that he's welcome in the apartment. We're still teammates and he still needs a place to stay."

 "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Ryan. He's my best friend. It's fine." Cam yawned, "I need to sleep, bye."

"Bye," Ryan echoed.

"They're total idiots," Kaylee said to him in bed.

"Completely."

~~~~~~~

Cam didn't fucking get it. They were fine a week ago. Chris was sending him pictures of fucking cats. It just didn't add up. Cam told himself not to care if Chris wanted to fuck up everything good in his life, well good job. He did. He told himself to stop loving him, because Chris never loved him, never liked him. That's what Chris had to tell himself to convince he was straight, that Cam was just a fluke. Then so be it. 

After two weeks of living at McD's Chris finally moved back in, he tiptoed around Cam. Left the room whenever Cam entered or didn't go in there until Cam left. They didn't share the bathroom anymore; Cam would be too tempted to beg him to tell him why. They sure as hell stayed away from the couch. Chris stayed up late talking to Cally most nights. Woke up looking like shit, but playing well. He wasn't there mentally, though. Everyone knew it. But the second someone brought it up Chris shut down, so they couldn't do much. Over the heater, Cam could never hear what Chris was saying, but if he stayed on the couch he could hear almost everything in the apartment. Which is why one night Chris had left his door open, and woke Cam up.

At first, he thought someone was hurt, "Cam!" Someone yelped. Then a few murmurs and a softer, sadder, FUCK. It was coming from Chris's room, Cam crept closer to the half opened door, "No, don't hurt him. Please." What the fuck was he dreaming about, "Cam no!" Chris jerked away and Cam stopped breathing. He was hyperventilating. Cam heard the sheets rustle and Chris's feet hit the floor. Cam ran to the kitchen as quietly as possible. Grabbed a glass of water and sat at the table, trying to look like he'd been there a while.

Chris trudged out a minute later, making eye contact with Cam. You could barely see him, but the city lights showed enough of Chris that Cam could make out the red eyes, the puffy face. Fuck, Chris had been crying. Chris jerked his thumb towards the fridge; he snatched a water and tried to retreat quickly.

"You can stay if you want," Cam said into the darkness. Slowly Chris walked back in, studying Cam. He sat down at the window looking out at the street below.

"Did I wake you?" Chris asked.

"No. I couldn't sleep,"

"Me too," Chris said. Cam didn't reply, "I meant it you know."

"Meant what?" Cam asked.

"I'm sorry," Chris said. Cam turned around to look at him; Chris's face was lit up by the streetlights. He looked miserable.

"Not tonight Chris." Cam sighed.

"I know," Chris said quickly. "I just wanted you to know." Chris drained the dregs of the water bottle, "See you in a couple hours." He said, tossed the bottle into the recycling and probably went back to his own personal hell. Cam slipped into his own bedroom.

Cam woke up early the next day, from the night before he slept lightly. Jerking up anytime he thought he heard Chris yelling; he never did, though. That's when he saw Chris's sweatshirt laying on the chair in his room. It didn't really matter, both of their stuff was in each other's bedroom all the time. But this sweatshirt meant something to both of them. Cam wanted to keep it, he really did. But the memory was too strong. He couldn't handle that. He grabbed it and threw it in the back of his car to give back at practice because even though everyone broke the rules those sweatshirts were supposed to stay at the rink.

~~~~~~~~~~

Before practice started Chris saw Cam hang up a sweatshirt. It didn't even occur to him what sweatshirt it was. Not until he was alone, after practice holding it in his hands. It smelled like Cam. Chris's eyes welled up with tears, he couldn't cry in the locker room. He collapsed onto the bench, clutching the sweatshirt. He fucked it all up. He fucked up everything, everything he loved. All for what? A family that couldn't be happy for him? A best friend—boyfriend? That looked like him like he was everything? Did they even count as boyfriends? They weren't really, all they did was fuck a couple of times and then have Chris break both of their hearts. But there were feelings, so many feelings purposefully buried right under the surface.

Chris's mind kept going back to what their label was. They definitely weren't boyfriends. Best friends? Best friends that couldn't look each other in the eye, couldn't speak to each other? Were they even friends? Chris started crying, tears running down and dropping on the sweatshirt. Fuck he was ruining Cam's sweatshirt. No. It wasn't Cam's anymore; he'd given it back.  
Chris kept crying, his head down. He couldn't see the sweatshirt anymore, his vision clouded, "Kreids?" McD said a few feet away. Chris looked up.

He wiped at his eyes fast, "What are you doing here?"

"I-uhm forgot my phone," He pointed to his locker, where his phone was laying.

"Shit, yeah I was just—" He stood up, hanging Cam's—his sweatshirt on a hook. Ryan made a noise of frustration; his phone was probably dead.

"Come get lunch with me," Ryan said it wasn't said as a question.

"No, Cam's making our lunch today. My favorite too," Chris lied through his teeth.

"Bullshit."

Chris sighed in defeat, "Waffles."

"Waffles," Ryan confirmed.

He didn't make him talk about on the way there, didn't even say a word. Just tapped his thumb along to some soft rock station playing. Halfway through their monster waffles, Ryan said gently, "You can talk to me, you know." When Chris never responded Ryan went on, "Cam told me what happened. He said to me it doesn't add up. I don't really know if you had a big gay freakout or if you found out you were in love with him and couldn't handle it. That's not my business and tell me if you want to. But he should know. You owe him that much." Chris didn't say anything and after that Ryan said nothing else either.

Ryan whipped out his credit card, beating Chris and glaring at him until he put his wallet away. He drove him back, in the same silence that the drive to the waffle place was. He pulled in front of Chris's building, "At least talk to him, Chris. You both look like death 24/7, but he looks like he wants to cry every time someone even says your name."

Chris hadn't noticed that. He's been trying not to look at Cam, trying to tamp down the feeling to run up to him and tell him everything, "If that's too hard. Just fucking look at him. Okay?" Chris looked at Ryan. He looked tired, strung out. Like all of them at this time in the season. Chris felt bad because he knew those forehead lines were partially from him.  
"I'm sorry," Chris said.

"Tell him that."

"I did."

"And?"

"He said ‘not tonight' so I went back to bed."

Ryan was silent, "He's not ready to talk either. But at least he knows that."

"I-I love him, Ryan. I fucking love him." Chris couldn't tell Cally that. Couldn't tell Cam that.

"Then why did you break his heart?" He couldn't answer that, though, not without

seeming like a bigger asshole. Choosing his homophobic parents over Cam? Chris opened the door, "Figure that out. Then tell him why, stop letting him think it was something he did, and then maybe he could actually look at you." Ryan said before Chris slammed the door.

 

The regular season was winding down, it was late March and Ryan had finally stopped sending Chris glares. He gave up trying to talk to him; Chris still could talk to Cam now. They could hold conversation alone, bullshit things, like where to eat, or who's going to cook, or if they were going to take one or two cars to the plane. Cam never touched him, though. Cam had always been touchy, not overly so. A hand on the back when he passed by, or a slap on the ass as a reward for scoring; he never did, though. He said as far away as possible on the couch, sat with Henrik or some other guy on the bus or plane. Cam was always on his phone now. Chris knew what that meant but he didn't want to acknowledge that Cam had moved on first.

Steps came up to him one day, "Are you coming tonight?"

"Coming to what?" Chris asked throwing his skates into the locker.

"Oh shit,"

"Steps what?" Chris stared at him.

"Oh, nothing. Some of us were just gonna get beers and--" He backpedaled.

"Spit it out,"

"Cam was going to introduce his boyfriend, it's not a big deal or anything," He held up his hands in innocence, "I thought you knew!"  
Chris swallowed the bile that rose up, "Oh I knew, it's cool. What's his name again?"

"Uhm, Ren?"  
"Duh thanks, dude." Chris bolted out of there. He waited on the couch for Cam.

 

"You're fucking dating someone?" Chris asked the second Cam shut the door. He nodded, "Why?" Chris's voice broke.

"Because I need to get over you,"

"A guy?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Chris pushed on.

"Because unlike you I can actually call myself gay," Cam yelled. His eyes were watering.

"And you're showing him off to the team?" Chris's anger deflated.

"I-yeah I am." He tilted his chin up. Chris was getting the bread for grilled cheese, ignoring Cam's eyes following him.

"None of it was your fault." Chris couldn't look at him.

"What wasn't my fault?" Cam grabbed them both ice, the noise covering Chris's shaky breath.

"The breakup. It was all me. None of it was your fault."

"Break up? Wouldn't you have to admit we were something to break up?" Cam snorted condescendingly, slamming down the glasses.

"We were something," Chris muttered under his breath

"What was that?" Cam raised his voice.

"Nothing." Cam snorted again and left Chris alone in the kitchen, the grilled cheese burning on the stove, "You were something to me." He whispered to himself.

~~~~~~~

Ren was good. Really good. He didn't have any dark hair, no sad dark eyes that take everything in, no stupid laughter, no callused hands rubbing over his shoulders, no baggage. Blonde, tall, he had a quiet personality, soft laugh. Everything that Chris wasn't was. And that's why Cam was with him. But he thinks about it, thinks about Chris's hands rubbing over his skin. Those quiet hitches in breath when he's slept.  
The only people on the team that knew were Ryan and Steps. He didn't want to make it a big deal but he wanted someone other than Ryan there. Steps had gone through his own shit when Hags left and had to deal with the aftermath of telling Hags about his feelings too late. He still dreamed about Chris, even in bed with Ren. Something felt wrong about that.

"Babe?" Ren's broke through his thoughts.

"Hm?" They were lying in bed, his head on Cam's chest.  
"Stop thinking so much." He laughed quietly.

Cam kissed his forehead, "Sorry," His face grew red. He propped his head up with an elbow.

"What do you think about so much anyways?"

"Life I guess. Who I'm going to settle down with, hockey, relationships…" He hummed; he knew that what they had wouldn't last but he didn't care. That was part of his allure, that and he didn't want sex. It was perfect. In the back of Cam's mind, he knew it was stupid to get into a relationship even one as stringless as this one this close to playoffs.

"I'm working during your game tomorrow but I'll be here after if you want to come over," Ren offered quietly.

"I'll try to come over," He kissed him sweetly.

 

The game against the Wild was boring almost. A few tussles, lots of battles in the corners, but just an average hockey game. No one even scored by the third; Chris was playing his heart out, yapping at everyone and hitting as much as possible. That was until Cooke said something to him in a low voice at a faceoff. Chris went white, then red. Cam had seen that face before, when Jerrards was spouting his bullshit and when Chris broke up with him, fucking Cooke.

Chris grabbed his jersey right after the puck dropped, yelling at him. They didn't even fight because the asshole refs broke them up. That was a mistake. Cam heard Cooke screaming, "You're fucking dead! I'm coming after you, you bastard!" He kept screaming as he got herded into the box. He was right, minutes after they were let out, Cooke landed a huge elbow at Chris's head. Pinning his head between where the glass and boards meet. Chris crumpled to the ice, he didn't move.  
Cam saw the blood on the ice, he couldn't breathe. Chris wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. The whistle sounded like it was underwater. He couldn't hear his own thoughts; the trainer flew onto the ice. Carrying a backboard. He saw Chris talking now, answering their questions. Slowly, too slowly Chris stood up and skated to the bench. There was a small crack on his visor; his forehead and nose were streaming blood.

No one wanted to play after, a stupid goal by the Wild with minutes left. No one gave a fuck. Vigneault snagged him after the game, "You live with Kreider right?" Cam nodded, "He has a mild concussion, but he can't be alone tonight. Someone needs to watch him, give him pills. Can you do that?" Again Cam nodded.  
"Just give me the instructions for the meds." Cam went back to changing and showering. He ran to the trainers room after, his boxers were sticking his damp skin.

"Chris," He breathed a sigh of relief. Chris smiled at him, washing the blood out of his teeth. He spat into the bowl, a tooth clattered into it.

"Hah. Look at that. It's my tooth!" Chris laughed, he looked up at Cam, but it seemed like he didn't really see him.

"He's in the clouds right now," The team doctor spoke up behind him.

"Hm?" Cam turned around.

"We had to give him some pain meds, a few numbing ones too. He won't feel a thing for a couple hours." He handed Cam his pills and instructions, "Two pills every six hours. With food and water. One sleeping pill at night, with the last, does of pain meds for that day. And the antibiotics with the pain meds." Cam nodded, "Make sure he sleeps on his side. The puking is gonna come as soon as the fist dose of pain meds wears off, so be ready. All the fun shit that goes with concussions, you know it right?"

"Yeah. What happened to him?" Cam questioned, pointing to the long row of stitches on Chris's forehead.

"His visor dug into his forehead and then he smashed his nose and head into the boards. Dug his teeth into his lip so if he keeps tonguing at them. Stop him," There were at least 40 stitches in his forehead, a couple in his nose and an ice pack bandaged to the side of his head. The trainers had cleaned up all the blood, "On a more awkward note," Cam raised his eyebrows at the doc, "He can't get any water near those stitches, and you're going to have to help him wash himself in the shower. I can get a nurse or something to do it if you don't want, though," Cam had always liked this doctor. He knew his stuff, no bullshit either.

"I'm fine with it. We've had to do it to each other before."

"Maybe do it tonight? Who knows what his pain level is going to be in the next few days. If anything changes or he passes out, 911."

"Course doc." Cam helped Chris out to his car, the bag trapped in his teeth, holding him up with both hands. Cam would have to come back sometime and grab Chris's car, but not tonight. Once he got him buckled in the car he texted Renee that he wasn't going to make it that night. His phone lit up with a text from Vigneault, ‘don't come to practice for the next few days. Take care of Kreider.  
The thing was, taking care of Chris was easy when they were speaking to each other. Even showering with Chris was easy when they were friends. Even better when they were more and now they could barely look at each other. This was going to be fun.

Chris kept worrying the stitches on the inside of the lip, "Stop touching the stitches," Cam scolded from across the car. Chris hissed at him but stopped. He always reverted back to like a 12-year-old when he had morphine. Brash, saying whatever's on his mind, whining a couple times because ‘the puppies were just so cute.'

In Chris's bathroom, Cam stripped him efficiently, and then stripped himself down to his boxers after he turned on the water. Chris had been resting, more like sleeping on Cam's shoulder the whole time they were home.

"What's happening?" He jerked his head up, taking in both of his nakedness and Cam in his boxers. He started blushing, and Cam didn't have the heart to correct him. Cam grabbed a face towel and helped them both climb into the shower. The thought of wearing board shorts or something had occurred to him, but really they've fucked Cam didn't have to do that. One shower didn't matter. Chris seemed to be resting again as Cam slowly put him in the spray. Holding the towel to his face, as added protection and pulling him out again. Turning them in the small shower so they switched places.

Chris had put most of his weight on Cam now, which made it interesting for him while he reached out of the shower for the loofa Chris kept on a hook. He soaped it up, rubbing it across Chris's chest. Chris sighed softly, "You never touch me anymore," Cam didn't reply. He bent down to get to Chris's legs, coming to face level with his dick. He pushed the thought out his mind and quickly soaping up his legs. Chris had put both of his hands on Cam's shoulders balancing himself. Cam's mind flashed back to the first night all of this started, he shook his head.  
He held the dry towel back to his head; he tipped Chris's head back, holding it there. The water quickly washed away the soap on his body, the hot water showing faint obviously male fingermarks on his hips.

He told himself he didn't care what Chris was doing now; he didn't have a right to care. Chris had taken away that right.  
He turned Chris to get his back soapy, Chris's head lolled forward. He let out a soft wince because of his neck. Cam soaped up his back quickly and bent down again to get the back of his legs. Very gently Cam soaped his ass. Barely touching him but not missing Chris's sharp intake of breath over the shower spray. Chris unconsciously pushed back into Cam's hand. Cam took his left hand and placed it on Chris's lower back, stopping him from moving anymore.  
Quicker than the last time, he washed off his back.

Now for the hardest part, the hair. Chris had blanketed himself on Cam's chest. He grabbed Chris's too expensive shampoo and massaged it through Chris's hair. He heard him sigh, Chris always loved scalp massages and with a concussion it felt even better. Cam had done this so many times with Chris before everything happened. Chris was sighing into Cam's fingers now, rubbing slow circles all over his scalp. Chris shuddered against him, secretly Cam blessed that concussions kill sex drives.

"I've missed this, I always try to do it to myself. But it's not the same nothing's the same," Chris sniffled quickly.

"If you touch your face with that wet hand I will never do this again." Cam knew it was an empty threat, Chris probably knew it too, but he kept his hands by his side. Cam stuck his hand out of the shower, tipping Chris. Who grabbed Cam's ass to stay close to him, "Fuck," Cam breathed out quickly, his hand snagged the cup they kept here for this exact reason. Bending down always hurt with a concussion, so he kept an arm wrapped Chris's upper chest and poured the cup of water on his head.  
When it was finally done, conditioner and his weird leave in conditioner it's supposed to de-frizz or something. All Cam knew is that it smelled good. Cam toweled Chris off he was shivering. One of the worst things about a concussion: the fucking shivering.

Chris's lip stitches had come undone, there was a line of blood coming out of his mouth, and Cam grabbed the cotton swatches from underneath the sink and held them to Chris's face. He was still completely naked. After the bleeding stopped Cam grabbed the numbing gel that the doc had given him, he pulled Chris's lip up, wearing a glove and dabbed some of it on the cut. Chris's dark eyes were looking at Cam.

"I love you," Chris whispered, staring right into his eyes, "I'm in love with you Cam."

"No, you don't,"

"Do you really believe that?" Chris started tearing up, "I'm in love with you!" He cried.

"Don't cry. C'mon" He hugged Chris carefully, who wrapped his arms tightly around Cam. Gently laying down his head on Cam's shoulder.

"It's why I'm saying it now. Because most likely I won't remember it tomorrow and I won't fuck this up anymore than I already have." Chris was sniffling.

"You didn't fuck us up babe," The pet name slipped out as did the lie.

"I did, though, I broke your heart. I broke my heart."

"Then why? Why did you do that, Chris?" Chris pulled back shaking his head.

"I can't." He whispered.

"Just tell me, Chris." Cam rubbed Chris's cheekbone.

"I'll lose everything. More than I've already lost." Chris was crying hard now. The added pressure in his head must be killing him. He looked miserable, Cam glanced at the time; he had to give him the pain meds and antibiotics now. He lugged a crying Chris into his bedroom and snagged a shirt and boxers.

Chris slipped the boxers on but held up his hands like a child waiting for Cam to slide on the shirt. Cam led him into the kitchen, making him toast and a glass of water, "I love you." Chris said into the quiet kitchen, "Fuck it feels so good to say it."

"You don't mean it, though," Cam reminded him. He didn't want it to be true; all of his hard work with Ren would be for nothing.

"I do," Chris protested. Cam just smiled at him and handed him the toast and pills, which he took dutifully. Cam followed him into Chris's bedroom, stopping at the doorframe, "Are you coming or what?" Chris gestured to the bed. That was their routine; the injured one is the little spoon, forced on their side so when they puke they do it on their side and away from the other person. Cam nodded jerkily, he saw Chris visibly relax. He hopped into the left side of bed and waited for Cam to grab the puke bucket from the bathroom.

He pulled him closer when Cam finally laid down, "Get closer, I'm freezing."  
When Chris's breath was almost at sleep rhythm, Cam gently kissed his neck, "I love you too," he whispered.

 

At 4am, Cam woke up to Chris puking. He was pale and looked like death; his bruise was pretty much a solid shade of purple. Cam texted a quick update to the doc, Kreids is puking now, his bruise is a nice shade of purple.  
Thanks. Make sure to give him the pills on a schedule. Cam didn't reply, his job now was to hold Chris by the waist and make sure he doesn't fall off the bed. Chris fell back into Cam moaning softly. After a solid five minutes of dry heaving after puking, Cam grabbed the quilt and threw it over them. Chris fell back asleep and Cam very slowly snagged his phone from his old bedside table.  
He read a bit, got a shit ton of texts and alerts that Cooke had been suspended for 5 games. He had one text from McD; Take care of your boy Talbo. He smiled at it.

He probably had a solid 20 minutes to get Chris food and his pills, before the puking started again. Gently Cam extracted himself to make them both breakfast.  
They were like that for days, cuddling, sleeping in the same bed again. Cam couldn't get it out of his head that this shouldn't be happening. They'd broken up, broken each other's hearts. Cam loved it though and he hated that he loved it. Chris was in pain, he sure as hell wasn't thinking straight when he ‘confessed his love' to Cam. He didn't want it to make sense, but it did and that threw a wrench into everything Chris had said when they broke up. Cam believed Chris; he saw it in his eyes, the only thing that ever betrayed Chris.

But Cam couldn't do this to himself. He had Ren now, and no matter what he was using Ren for he couldn't go back to Chris. Whatever Chris was so afraid of; he could only say what he wanted to when he wasn't sober or in the right mind set. And no matter how much Cam loved him, he couldn't do it.

So life went on. Cam ignored his feelings for Chris and Chris had stopped reminding him that there once were feelings between them. Chris had recovered from the concussion quicker than expected and was back before the first round of playoffs ended. Chris had started wearing his sweatshirt again, they sat away from each other on the plane, and they didn't room on the road. Life was different but it was easier. At least that's what Cam told himself to make sure he doesn't ask Chris why he did what he did.

McD kept checking up on them, secretly Cam loved it because it told him that someone cared; more importantly, that someone knew that this was hard as shit for Cam.

~~~~~~

Chris had never been one to beat around the bush; he always said what he wanted or didn't say anything at all. Maybe that was harder when the only person he wanted to talk to he couldn't. He wanted to forget what he did to them, forget the pain he caused to them, the lines on Cam's forehead, the way that Cam just sat there and beat himself up after a loss because he lost his safety net when he lost Chris.  
Living with him was one of the hardest parts because Cam had asked him if it was okay to bring Ren over. Cam looked so hopeful that he said yes. So now he woke up to the smell of bacon and a shirtless Ren cooking for Cam. Chris could never tell if Ren knew their history, the pity looks he shot him sometimes pointed to yes, but when Ren and Chris were left alone he asked if Chris had a girlfriend, Chris said no, that hockey was his girlfriend. Cam heard him once, his façade broke, his eyes filled with sadness, he diverted his eyes away when Chris tried to meet them. Cam just shook his head and went up to Ren, whose back was to Cam. Chris slipped out to go get drunk.

Only drunks were at bars at 3 pm on a Saturday, Chris self-deprecatingly thought he fit right in. The attractive bar tender whose name was Eric kept the drinks coming, though he slipped him some water every three drinks so Chris wouldn't die. By 11pm all Chris had eaten was a burger, onion rings, and too many beers to count. Chris couldn't stop thinking about Cam's hands. Touching his body with more love than anyone had ever before, caressing his head. How his arms wrapped tightly around Chris when he kissed his helmet, how his hands almost covered Chris's face when he kissed him. Chris was forgetting the sounds Cam made, how he said his name when they were fucking, the soft gentle way he said it in the morning as he passed Chris his coffee. It felt like his memories of Cam, the only thing he still cared about were slipping through his fingers. The bartender, Eric called him a cab after the last call. Chris slipped into the quiet apartment, sighing when he saw Ren's shoes still by the door.

 

Chris hated concussions. Fucking hated them. He got one when he was younger, and if someone asked him to tell him what happened for those two months of hell, he couldn't tell them. But two weeks had passed since he got the one from Cooke and he still remembered telling Cam that he loved him. After Chris didn't need to be watched while he slept Cam moved out of his bedroom and out of his life again. Cam still made them breakfast and drove Chris to the doctor's appointments, but they never talked.

Chris woke up to the shrilling of his phone, "'Ello?"

"Hey, Chris," Cally's voice was tired.

"Ryan? Why are you calling me?" Chris sat up in bed.

"I wanted to check in, I heard about your injury…" He trailed off.

"I'm fine thanks, but why are you calling me?"

Ryan took a deep breath, "I want you to talk to Cam."

"I-I—"

"Look Chris. Me and G's relationship fucked me up, and I know that what you're feeling for Cam is too. I don't know what happened, or why you did it. But McD told me that you fucked up, and don't do that. Don't let him leave." Cally's voice was soft.

"Whatever Cam and I have had is not what you and G had, Ryan," Chris said gently.

"I know that, but I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. I want you to be happy." Chris took in a shuddering breath, "Think about it from his point of view, you guys were great and then just nothing. He's gotta be confused, even it's a lie just tell him it wasn't his fault."

"He hates me."

Cally laughed, "Chris, he's still living with you and if he did your weird ass concussion thing he definitely doesn't hate you,"

"I told him I loved him."

"You did what." Cally's voice was surprised

"I was high on PKs and well it just slipped out and he said it was the PKs talking but it was me and he thinks I'm just BSing him, but it's true I do love him."

"Fuck Chris."

"Yea. And he has a boyfriend to move on from me, and he's come out to the team. Well like the core guys and I'm losing him, Ryan."

"Chris, you have to tell him."

"I can't."

"Why the fuck not?!"

Chris took a deep breath, "Because I came out to my family and they said I forget about Cam or I forget about them and it's my family Ryan, I can't lose them."

"They don't fucking love you if they told you that."

"They're my family!"

"Not if they do that. I've been out to my family since I was 17 they still love me. That's not love Chris, that's fucking bullshit."

"I don't want to lose them, though."

"Cam loves you, and he would do anything for you. You know that deep down. Would they? Because from where I'm standing they sure as hell wouldn't."

Chris pressed on his forehead, "Look, Ryan, I have a headache. I'll call you later,"  
"Just tell him, Chris, please." Ryan hung up and Chris fell back into his bed.

 

A couple hours later, Cam knocked on his door carrying food, "Lunch!" He said cheerfully.

Chris hauled himself up to a sitting position, "Thanks,"

Cam nodded. He was staring at Chris, "what?" Chris said, "Do I have something on my face?"

"Yeah," Chris swiped at his face.

"Gone?"

"Here lemme get it." He reached up with his left hand slowly, holding onto Chris's jaw he gently rubbed under Chris's bottom lip. Chris caught himself right before he opened his mouth like a kiss. He was speechless. Cam never touched him in passing, now they were alone in a bedroom, Chris was shirtless and Cam's hand was still on his face, his eye's flicking around Chris's face, settling on his lips. Chris raised his on hand up; it was shaking as he laid it on Cam's forearm in between them.

"Cam." Cam jerked away like he'd been burned.

"Shit. I'm so sorry." He was by the door before Chris blinked.

"Cam wait!" He froze, "We need to talk,"

"Uh-um I have a date with—Ren. I ne-I gotta go," Cam was gone.

Chris heard the door slam a few minutes later.

~~~~~~~~~

Why did he just do that? Why? Why? Why? He rested his head on the steering wheel, what the fuck? Cam was so close to kissing him, so fucking close. With shaking hands, he pulled out of the garage onto the road to meet Ren at their coffee shop.  
"…this Prof said that he would totally give credit for that answer because--" Ren cut himself off, "Cam?" He touched Cam's arm.

"Wh-what? I mean you definitely should." Cam covered quickly, but Ren wasn't buying it.

"What's on your mind?"

Chris. "Um just work stuff."

Ren sighed, "You had an off-day what could've happened?"

"Um. It's just personal relationship stuff in the team. It's bugging me." Cam had probably said too much and Ren was a psychology major.

"Go talk to Chris then."

"No. I'm with you, when I'm with you I don't think about that."

Ren looked tired, "Just go talk to him okay? I'm fine. You look horrible."

"I'm avoiding us talking about what happened and I just need a break," Ren closed his hands on top of Cam's. Cam quickly pulled back, "Not in public," He whispered.

"Oh right. I forgot." Ren looked away. Cam heaved a deep sigh.

"Ren—"

"Look Cam just go talk to him. You need it and he definitely needs it to,"

"I don't know who you're talking about?" Cam covered quickly. Ren smiled pitifully at him.

"Go talk to him, Cam. I'll be fine, go." He made a shooing motion with his hand.

Cam stood up, "I'm sorry." He put his hand on Ren's shoulder.

"I'm not, I knew what my role in this was for a while now and I'm happy to continue to filling it, but now you need to talk to him. If he wants to open up. Let him." Cam smiled at him again and walked out into the spring night air.

When he got home, Chris was kneeling on the floor, the remote in pieces by the dent in the wall. "It wouldn't mute." He whispered.

Cam walked up to him and hauled him up, "Shh, I'll fix it, babe." Chris looked up his eyes were red-rimmed.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Chris looked over Cam's shoulder, "I've been an asshole to you for months."

Cam sighed, "Because I still care about you, Chris. I always will."

"You shouldn't though." Chris moved to the couch and Cam followed.

He grabbed Chris's hand, "I do."

Chris was silent, looking at the dark TV screen, "I talked to Cally today." His eyes flicked to Cam, who nodded slightly. "He told me I should tell you why I—ended things between us." Cam's breath hitched. "I don't know how to tell you, though. Because it sounds so pitiful- so weak." Chris wasn't looking at Cam. "I keep thinking to myself, ‘It's Cam. He loves me.' And then my other half goes, ‘how could you even think that?' And I don't know what to believe anymore, I just don't know." His voice breaks on ‘just'. Chris's face was red, "You remember before break?" Cam nodded, "Fuck, I was so happy." Chris smiled and then it faded as he tried to form his words, "I—I came out to my parents you know? That break. I didn't say I was gay, but I told them I was dating you. That I was happy. And—and then they took that away." Chris was shaking, "They said ‘Break up with the boy or don't come home this offseason." Chris was crying now, tears dripping down his face onto his hands, "I chose them. Fuck I don't know why. They're my family, but look how they treated me. What type of family does that?" His voice broke again.

"Chris—" Cam said gently putting his hand on Chris's shoulder. He shrugged him off.

"So I came home and broke your heart and in doing that I broke mine. Cam, I love you. I love you so much, and I fucked up and destroyed the one good thing I had in my life. And now you're happy with Ren and I'm injured and alone and really fucking depressed. Did you know I had depression when I was younger?" Chris got this ugly laugh, "Yeah, damn that doctor you brought me to last week, that was a therapist because this fucked me up, Cam." He gestured around them, "Fucked me up good." He put his head into his shaking hands. "And fuck, I still love you, and that's what kills me the most, seeing the pain I inflicted on you. That was my fault." Chris stood up and started towards their rooms.

"For what it's worth Chris, I still do love you." Chris smiled at him softly and closed the door to his bedroom.

Well shit. Cam thought, that explained a lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris felt ten times better after telling Cam, but the team doctors think that he needs more directed care, so they sent him to Mass General in Boston. In the morning, he stopped and looked at Cam sleeping quietly. Damn he was beautiful. Chris shut the door again quietly and went into the kitchen to write Cam a note.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Cam,  
I'm sorry I'm doing this. The doctors said I should get more care at Mass General or NYU-Cornell and I chose Boston. It's great care and I need to leave for a couple days to clear my head. Everything I said last night I meant and I hope the same goes for you. Cam I really do love you. I always have, you've done everything for me and I've repaid you by breaking your heart. But I hope this distance shows both of us that we still could have a chance. I'm just dreaming here. Fuck and rambling. But I love you, Cam.  
-Chris  
P.S. Please don't call me. I need the time to think about everything.

~~~~~~~~

Fuck him. Cam thought. He just fucking left, and okay he does need the care but FUCK.  
  
~2 weeks later~

Cam couldn't stop looking at Chris in the bar, his hips moving to the beat, all alone on the dance floor. Chris had won the Rangers their game 7 in the first round so they went out to celebrate, "Go dance with him," McD nudged Cam.

"Uh," Cam's cheeks were flushed.

"Go c'mon, no one would think any less of either of you. Just look at the rookies over there." McD gestured to the two Finnish rookies grinding on each other, "If it ends in tears, I'm here." Cam glanced up to see McD smiling.

"Fine. Fine." McD slid out so Cam could get out.

He slid up behind Chris and rested his hands on Chris's hips, "Hey baby." He whispered into Chris's ear. He shivered slightly and almost pulled away, "Not tonight, you're mine." Cam knew that Chris could leave his grip if he really wanted to, but Chris stayed.

Cam pulled their bodies together, "Right there baby," Cam whispered to him as Chris drew his hips slowly along Cam's jean-clad dick. Cam pressed their whole bodies together, Chris wrapped a hand around Cam's butt pulling him closer, and Cam rubbed his hands up Chris's chest slowly, his head falling back onto Cam's right shoulder. Chris's hips were gyrating faster now; little moans were escaping from his open mouth.

"Cam." He brought the hand that was on Chris's chest lower and swept it quickly over Chris's dick tenting his pants. "Oh fuck." He moaned.  
Cam bit gently into Chris's exposed neck, nipping at the tendons flexing there.

Chris ran his hands over Cam's ass roughly pushing him closer to himself, "Can you come without me touching you?" Cam whispered into Chris's ear as Cam thrust his hips up, in return Chris moaned louder, "I bet you can baby, but let's see how long you can last." Cam slid his hand into the right side of Chris's shirt, slowly trailing his finger right along Chris's boxer line slipping a fingertip underneath it every so often.

"Ca-am," Chris's voice broke. Cam slid his hand out and then between them to cup Chris's ass. Chris had stopped moving his hips to the beat and was now trying to just get friction on his back from Cam's body. He slid a hand right over Cam's dick and Cam's hips bucked up. "Touch me." He choked out. Cam shook his head and brought his left arm around Chris's hips and hooked his right up on Chris's chest under his right arm and feather-lightly brushed from behind Chris's left ear down to his collarbone and kissed the hinge of Chris's jaw on the other side. Chris's knees buckled when he came, Cam held him up as Chris shuddered with his eyes screwed tightly shut. He recovered quietly; he took back his own weight, "Let's get out of here." Chris turned around to face Cam his voice was wrecked.

Chris went outside to get a cab, looking freshly fucked. Cam wasn't much better, his boner hadn't flagged at all as he made his way back to the table where McD silently handed him Chris's and his own jacket and winked.

Chris was leaning against the waiting cab, still looking wrecked, "That was fucking hot." Cam whispered as he passed Chris and opened the door, Chris's breath caught in the back of his throat quietly, after hesitating for a moment he slipped into the car.

"We still need to talk," Cam whispered in the back of the cab.

"I know, but can we do it tomorrow? I'm exhausted tonight."

Cam studied Chris's face in the dim light from the streetlights, "Yeah," He reached over and squeezed Chris's hand. Chris squeezed back.

 

The next morning, Cam awoke early and started making breakfast for the two of them. Chris stumbled in half an hour later, "Hi," His voice still rough from sleep, he was wearing one of Cam's shirts, the number faded in the corner. Cam's chest tightened.

"Hi," He said softly back. Chris shuffled in and sat at the bar, "Omelet?" Chris nodded.

After having two cups of coffee each and an omelet, they sat down on the couch, a good foot and a half space in-between them.

"So what do you want to know?" Chris asked.

"Do you think what we did before the break was a mistake?"

"You mean, the good part of our relationship. No, I loved that I cherish that time. I want that again. And I know I fucked up and lost you, and I don't deserve you at all, but I love you, Cam. I don't give a fuck about anyone else. I'll-I'll come out for you Cam."

Cam knew how much courage that statement took for Chris to say, and hell he had meant it to. He would come out for Cam, tell everyone that he loves him. For now, Cam ignored that, because that was a conversation for another time, "What do you want us to be?"

"Whatever you want. I don't want to put any boundaries on what we could have,"  
Cam go down on one knee in front of him, "Chris, do you want to be my boyfriend?"  
Chris's eyes welled up, "Yes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Chris had called a team meeting before the beginning of training camp, the whole core and some of the newer ones too like Millsy. Chris and Cam stood up at the front, "Hi everyone, we uh we wanted to make an announcement." Chris said. There was some murmuring and Chris waited until it quieted down. He grabbed Cam's hand, "We're together, we have been for about a year now. Some of you already knew, but we wanted everybody to know."

The whole place was silent for about seven seconds and then everyone was clapping, Zucc chirped from the front, "Took you guys long enough,"

Boyle yelled from the back, "We wanna see a kiss!" Everyone started chanting, "KISS KISS KISS…"

Chris looked over at Cam, who just smiled and leaned in, kissing Chris softly. Chris smiled against Cam’s lips and Cam knew then that Chris had always loved him and will always love him.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me about two years to write and it's also my favorite ship. So comments and kudos would always be appreciated. There's a playlist for this fic so just comment if you want it.


End file.
